


Cat and Mouse

by bamby0304



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Blood, Blood Drinking, Blood Play, Demon Blood, Explicit Language, F/M, Kidnapping, Knife Play, Overstimulation, Praise Kink, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, demon blood drinking, dub-con, mentions of torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-24 15:59:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19726942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bamby0304/pseuds/bamby0304
Summary: Lured in by a beautiful face and the prospect of a good night, Meg makes you her new pawn to use against the Winchesters. But before she makes her move in their dangerous game, she decides to make the most of her time with you.





	Cat and Mouse

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This fic is for the Meg square for my @spndarkbingo card.
> 
> Warnings: Explicit language. Angst. Kidnapping. Mentions of torture. Blood. Demon blood drinking. Smut. F/F. Fingering. Blood play. Knife play. Praise kink. Overstimulation. Dub-con.
> 
> Bamby

She was bad news. You’d know that the moment you’d spotted her in the hole-in-the-wall bar. Even before you realised her real eyes were pure black. Meg Masters had been a thorn in the Winchester’s ass for many years… and she’d captured you like a fly in sweet honey faster than you’d realised what was happening.

You were one of Sam and Dean’s success stories. A damsel in distress that had been saved and then trained. Honestly, you should have known better. You shouldn’t have fallen so easily. But she was gorgeous, and it had been so long since you’d had some fun.

With a few flirty glances, bitten lips, and a little bit of banter that was full to the brim with sexual tension and innuendo, Meg easily lured you to the dark alley. You’d been under the impression that was where her car was waiting. Instead, it’s where you found your doom.

Unprepared, it was easy for Meg to knock you out. With her demon strength, she’d slammed your head against the brick wall, and just like that, you were out like a light.

When you’d come to, you found yourself bound to a chair. Wherever she’d taken you, it was dark, cold, and isolated. Meg had been trained by Alistair himself, and if Dean was any indication, that meant she knew what she was doing.

You’d honestly expected the torture to begin, and never end. The moment your eyes had opened, and you’d realised where you were, you’d expected pain. You hadn’t expected Meg to leave you there, alone.

There was no way to tell if she’d been gone for hours or days. When the door finally opened, and she stepped into the room, you’d felt both a sense of dread and relief. Being alone had been driving you insane, but you were certain her presence wouldn’t lead to anything good.

“So… you’re the Winchester’s new toy,” she stated, starting towards you. “Can see the boys finally have taste. You’re the prettiest thing they’ve played with.”

“Who are you?” you sneered, watching as she started to circle the chair.

Coming to a stop in front of you, she pressed a hand to her chest. “Me? I’m Meg.”

You might not have been with the brothers for long, but you’d heard stories of their past so you new enough. You knew about the demon, and all the things she’d done over the many years she’d been around. From possessing Sam, to killing Ellen and Jo.

As your face twisted into pure rage and hatred, she only smiled. “So, you’ve heard of me.” Stepping closer, she leaned forward, resting both hands on the arms of your chair. “The boys told you a few things? Did Sammy tell you how I made him do terrible things while I was driving his meat-suit? How I made him hurt so many people? How I hurt him? Did he tell you how he liked it? Or did he just skip the pleasantries and slip right between those thighs of yours?”

She dropped one of her hands to your thigh and started to inch it up slowly, ignoring the way you flinched to get away from her.

“Did Dean tell you about all the horrible things he did while in Hell? Did he tell you what it feels like to torture a soul? It’s so different to working with flesh.” She bit her lip, watching your mouth closely. “Those boys… they’ve got dark streaks right down to their souls. The things they’ve done, and do… they make me look like an angel sometimes.”

“Shut up.”

“I bet you’re a Sam girl. Bet you fell for his puppy dog eyes, and then let him hurt you so good. What did you let him do? Choke you? Or did he cut you? How about Dean? Did you let him tear you apart like one of the souls he tortured?” she purred. “There’s just something about watching someone bleed that makes me so… aroused.” Her hand cupped your jean covered mound then.

“Get your hands off me, bitch,” you hissed.

She only grinned at you, amused. “Or what? Not sure if you noticed, but you’re pretty tied up right now. I could do whatever I want, and there’s nothing you could do to stop me.” She tilted her head, watching on with a patronising look in her eyes. “Really should have memorised an exorcism. Really could have saved your bacon,” she noted before quickly leaning into to smash her lips against your in a searing kiss.

Tearing away from her, you threw yourself back until you felt the chair rock and fall, crashing to the ground. The air was knocked out of your lungs on impact, as a heavy thrum began to ache in your head.

Chuckling, Meg stood over you. “You know, I was gonna cut you up, get some information out of you. Really take my time with it, too. But now that I think about it… I wanna have a different kind of fun.” Walking around you, she reached down and grabbed the chair from the ground, and pulled you back up.

Still struggling, trying to break free, you also watched as she came to stop in front of you. When her hand disappeared into her jacket and pulled out a knife, you paused with wide eyes.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head. This isn’t for you.” Stepping closer, she crouched down in front of you with a gleam in her eyes that made you feel uneasy. “Did Sammy ever tell you about Ruby?” The slight flicker of your eyes answered her question. “Did he ever tell you what they did together? How it made everything feel so much better? You ever wonder what it was like?” she asked as she stood again.

Unable to move, you watched for as long as you could as she walked around the chair until she was out of sight. Not being able to see her made your anxiety and fear spike. A demon, with a knife, was now standing behind you, and there was nothing you could do.

Her hand suddenly gripped your hair and pulled your head back sharply. You let out a hiss right before her wrist was pressed against your lips, silencing you.

It took a second for you to realise you could then taste something metallic and bitter on your tongue.

As you began to scream and struggle against her, Meg kept her firm hold on you until you felt the sticky liquid slide down your throat.

She began to stroke your hair gently. “There we go.” Removing her wrist from your mouth, she leaned down to ghost her lips along the shell of your ear. “Good girl.”

Pulling back, she walked around the chair without another word, and left the room, slamming the door behind her.

With blood smeared lips, a thrumming heartbeat, and adrenaline racing through your veins, you stared into the darkness.

Oh fuck.

...

Meg returned the next day… only to force more of her blood down your throat.

Eventually, you lost track of how many times you drank from her. You had no idea how much time had passed, and you no longer cared. The only thought you could grasp was the insatiable need for more.

You were addicted to Meg’s blood, and she relished in the fact.

“Such a pretty thing.” She caressed your cheek. “So pretty, and all mine.” Her tongue peeked out to run along her bottom lip. “Bet you’d let me do whatever I want.” Leaning in slowly, she brushed her lips against yours.

The feel of her skin, her warmth, made you tremble and whimper. There was no more fight in you. Only need. Only hunger.

“Good girl,” she chuckled before sealing her lips over yours.

She kissed fervently and hungrily, seemingly just as needy as you were. Her hands grasped your head, fingers carding into your hair as she held you close and devoured the moans and whimpers that spilled from your lips.

Tearing away from you, she reached for her back and pulled out her knife. You watched it with eager eyes, thirsty for more of her. But instead of bringing it to her flesh, she moved the knife to your binds. In one smooth move, she cut you free.

You didn’t run. The thought didn’t even occur to you once you were completely free. You didn’t even fight or struggle. Getting away from Meg was the last thing you wanted. As soon as your ties were gone, you leapt from the chair and grabbed Meg’s jacket, pulling her towards you.

Her lips were on yours once more, claiming them in a bruising kiss as her hands grasped your hips in a tight hold. Turning you away from your chair, keeping you distracted with her mouth, she moved you further into the room. When you collide with something you paid it no mind, but instead let Meg guide onto whatever it was she’d led you to.

As your back laid down on the surface, you quickly realised it was a wooden table. If you’d had the mind to focus on the object, you would have worried about it breaking or splintering under so much weight, but you were too caught up in Meg to care.

Laying back, your fingers held onto her jacket tightly, pulling her along with you, Meg was all too happy to follow you onto the table, straddling you with her knees on either side of your waist.

Pulling back, she looked down at you with her bottom lip tucked between her teeth as she twirled her knife between her fingers. With a heaving chest, you watched her as your desperation and hunger continued to grow until it began to hurt. It wasn’t until you whined with need that she finally made a move.

Bringing the knife to your clothes, she wasted no time in stripping you bare of the barriers keeping your skin from her eyes. The second you were surrounded in the shredded remains of your clothes, she leaned in to suck a nipple into her mouth and moaned.

The sounds she made as her fingers glided along your flesh with no sign of threat, her mouth sucking and nipping on your breasts, made your pussy clench around nothing as you grew more and more needy for her.

Hearing the sound of your desperation, Meg trailed her hand down between your thighs before finding your slick slit. You jumped as she began to stroke you delicately, making you mewl for more, wanting her to finally break the dam inside you. Giving you exactly what you wanted, she thrust two fingers inside you and sought out your sweet spot.

It was like she had her own personal tether to every spot that made you cry out for more and scream with pleasure. It took no time at all for Meg to find your g-spot, and right away you practically fell over the edge into your first orgasm, screaming so loudly the sound echoed off the walls for several moments after you’d stopped.

Meg wasn’t finished with you, however. With her fingers still inside you, she began to thrust them deeper and slower, dragging out the pleasure until it all started to become too much.

You screamed and screamed until your voice cracked and throat hurt. Unable to scream anymore, you found you could barely hum or moan because of the pain. Your body, however, was buzzing, overstimulated as Meg continued her delicious assault on your pussy.

When she’d had enough of playing you like a fiddle, she pulled her hand away and returned her focus to the knife. You watched the silver glisten under the only light in the room and felt your mouth water.

Instead of putting the blade to her own skin, though, Meg pointed the tip against your collarbone.

Her eyes met yours as a devilish smirk curled her lips before she flicked her switch.

The pain that came from the cut hot straight through your body and down to your pussy. Your lips parted in a silent scream as air pushed itself out of your lungs, desperately trying to vocalise what you were feeling. All you could do though was lay there and take what she gave you.

Over and over, she moved the knife alone your skin and made small cuts wherever she wished. You lost track of how many times she’d cut you, just like you’d lost track of how many times she’d made you orgasm. In the end, all you could do was lay there and jump at every touch she gave you, whether it be a gentle stroke or a sharp slice.

“Good girl,” she purred, taking in her work.

Sliding off the table, she circled it and watched as your head rolled and eyes fought to stay open. You were covered in sweat and blood. Everything hurt, but at the same time, it felt incredible.

Finally, she stopped above your head and lifted the knife again, only this time it was herself that she cut.

The moment you smelt her blood you were moaning and moving, trying to get closer to her in order to get a taste. You were just so thirsty.

Bringing her wrist to your mouth, she watched as you eagerly sealed your lips around the cut and began to drink greedily. Patting your head with her other hand, she grinned at her work, knowing she’d broken you perfectly.

“Good girl.” Grinning, she dragged her eyes over your body, taking in the sight of her bruised, bloody and cut canvas. “I just can’t wait to show everyone what I’ve done with you.”

…

With one single ankle chained to a metal pole on the wall of the darkened room, you were laid out on the ground, head resting on your arm as your naked body refused to move. The floor was damp and cold, making the cuts on your body sting both painfully and pleasantly.

Meg had left you days ago. She’s had her fun, had her fill and then left.

So drugged on her blood, you still cried out for her, still felt the aftershocks of her blood and the pleasurable things she’d done to you. It was like a mental scar that had plagued you over and over during the time you’d spent alone. While you knew, somewhere in your broken mind, that she’d left you to die, that wasn’t what scared you.

The sound of a heavy door creaking had you weakly lift your head and part your cracked and dry lips, causing them to bleed. Your first instinct was to call out, but the only sound you could make was a pained cry.

“Dean!” Sam’s called over his shoulder before he hurried over to you, tucking his gun into his jacket. Crouching down in front of you, he took your face in his hands. “We’re here. We’ve got you.”

Hurrying into the room with his gun raised, Dean stumbled as he spotted you and his brother in the far corner of the room. Not putting his gun away, he stormed over and lifted the weapon.

“Watch out,” he warned before shooting at the chain locking you in place.

The second you were free Sam lifted you into his arms as his brother took his jacket off.

Dean draped his jacket over your naked body, covering you from the elements and their eyes. “We’re gonna get you home,” he promised.

As the brothers began to walk out of the room, Sam holding you close to his chest, you managed to utter one single word.

“Meg…”

**Bamby**


End file.
